The Beginning
by iammemyself
Summary: Just how did Sonic the Hedgehog become who he is today?  An origin for the blue blur, rated T for a part people might not like at the end.
1. Chapter 1

The Hedgehog

The world was dark, and cold. It had always been that way, as long as he could remember, but he had never understood why.  
>He had to stop running through the forest after only a minute or two. His eyes stung as he remembered how he had been humiliated at recess. Again. So what if he was short. So what if he was kind of...well, there wasn't a nice way to describe his weight, now was there. But he didn't really eat that much, did he? Maybe he was just unlucky...yeah, that was it, he was unlucky!<br>Oh goody, he thought unhappily, now I'm lost. I'm lost in a forest in the middle of nowhere and I don't know where I am.  
>He sat down because he was out of breath and he may as well sit down to catch it. Though he didn't understand that expression, since you had to stop to catch your breath when to catch things you kind of had to chase them. He didn't like chasing things anyways, though, so he didn't care. He just wanted to go to sleep and not wake up for a while, like until he was maybe 25 and he could boss everyone else around. It was pretty dark outside...he didn't remember it being this dark. His mom was gonna be pretty mad if he didn't get home soon. She was always mad at him, for some reason, but that was the first thing he thought.<br>He walked very slowly, unconsciously dragging his feet. When he tripped he remembered that his shoes already had holes in them and he'd better stop dragging them or else. Or else what, he didn't know, but that was what his brother had said, and his brother knew everything.  
>By the time he got home the moon was very high in the sky and he was kind of shivery, but he still didn't want to go in his house. It was kind of shivery in there too.<br>"I had suspected it before, but this confirms it. You don't respect me at all, do you?" asked his mother as soon as he closed the front door (he dropped it and slammed it by accident).  
>He didn't understand when his mom talked like that, so he didn't say anything. That made her madder and when she started yelling at him for ignoring her he had to try real hard not to cry.<br>"You come home when I tell you to come home! Got it?" she demanded, grabbing his shoulders hard and turning him around to face her. Boy, she was real mad.  
>"Uh-huh," he sniffed, not looking at her. "Yes, mommy, I promise, I'm sorry."<br>"Now go to your room," said his mother. "I don't want to see you for the rest of the night."  
>That was what she always said.<br>"'kay," he said, and went upstairs. He dropped the door again and his mom yelled at him to stop slamming doors. He mumbled "Sorry" but it didn't really matter 'cause no one was listening anyways.  
>He laid down on his tummy on his bed and put his face in his pillow for a minute so it would get rid of the water on his face. That was the bestest way to pretend to yourself that you didn't cry. But then his tummy made a noise so he had to get off of it. He patted it a little and told it to be quiet. It made a few more noises and then it did. He sighed. He was very hungry -someone had stoled his lunch again- but he knew that if he went downstairs he would get yelled at, and wouldn't get to eat besides, so he just stayed in his bed. Maybe no one would steal his lunch tomorrow. Sometimes he was lucky. Sometimes he wasn't. He wasn't today, his tummy was so hungry it was starting to hurt. He wanted to cry (not again, though, 'cause he hadn't cried the first time), so he reached in his pillowcase and in the pillow and took out his picture. It was a picture of him and his brother and sister, and they were at a place with a giant bouncy thing. He tried not to 'member what happened after, he tried to just 'member the other parts, but he couldn't.<p>

"Hey, c'mon, silly!" said his sister, grabbing for his arm. "We've gotta get in line before they close it!"  
>"'kay!" he said, and stuck his arm out so his sister could grab it. She held his hand tight and yelled for their brother to hurry up so they could all go together. He pretended he wasn't going to, but then he followed them anyways. He was always up for something fun to do.<br>They were the last ones on the bouncy thing. There was a grumpy looking teenager who was telling everyone in line to just get on, hurry it up already, so they took off their shoes and jumped on with everyone else. It was real bouncy with all the kids on it, and he was a little scared 'cause he was smaller than everyone else and he was a bit scared of being landed on. After a minute he was unscared though and he just had fun. Then all of a sudden his sister and his brother disappeared and there were lots of peoples he didn't know and someone hit him in the head and then everything went all blackish for a minute. He heard a thuddy noise and someone screaming and his mommmy saying "Oh my God!" and then the blackishness came back and he disappeared.  
>A little while later he was in the doctor office and the doctor was talking but he wasn't paying attention 'cause there was redness coming out of his nose and he was wondering about it.<br>"No, ma'am, there is no brain damage," the doctor said. "However, he seems to be a bit behind in his development. Would you mind if I ran a few tests?"  
>"No, not at all," said his mommy. "Please, go right ahead."<br>The doctor left and came back. There was something in his hand, but he had no interest in it. He was more interested in where his shoes were. His feet were getting cold.  
>"Hey, son, do you mind looking at this for me?" asked the doctor. He looked at the thing in the doctor's hand and took it for a minute. It opened up, so he opened it. There was a lot of pictures and a lot of wiggly things. He wrinkled his nose and tried to give it back.<br>"Can you look at it for me?" said the doctor again.  
>"I did," he said. "I did look at it."<br>"Can you look at it again?"  
>"It's boring though," he said. "I don' wanna."<br>"Do you read to him?" the doctor asked his mommy.  
>"No, he won't let me," said his mommy. "He has no interest in it."<br>"None at all?"  
>"None, " his mommy said.<br>"Hm," said the doctor.  
>The doctor left the room and came back again, this time with a pile of toys. Now that looked interesting.<br>"Hey, can you sort these into piles for me?" asked the doctor. He got down from his chair and went and looked at them. There was a pile of squares and circles and triangles. He sat down and pushed them into piles.  
>"Cool, " the doctor said. "Can you count them all up for me?"<br>He counted them as well as he could, but he ran out of fingers before he finished.  
>"10," he said proudly.<br>"Um...that's not quite all of them, son," said the doctor. "Do you think you could count the other ones too?"  
>"'kay," he said, and he counted to 10 again.<br>"10," he said.  
>"Hm," the doctor said.<br>Next the doctor gave him a card and a pencil.  
>"Can you write your name on there for me?" asked the doctor.<br>"No," he said.  
>"Why not?" asked the doctor.<br>"'cause I don' know how to spell it," he said.  
>"He doesn't know how to spell his name?"<br>"Well...he never really cared..."  
>"Hm," said the doctor. "Can you write the alphabet for me?"<br>"'kay, " he said, though he didn't remember all of the letters. He wrote as many of them as he could and then stopped.  
>"He's gripping that pencil rather oddly," said the doctor.<br>"I thought so too," said his mommy.  
>"Why were you holding your pencil like that?" asked the doctor.<br>"'cause I have to," he said.  
>"Hm," said the doctor. "Ma'am, I've got bad news for you.<br>"Your son is retarded." 


	2. Chapter 2

The Sister

Four years later

"Hey Oggie!"  
>He turned.<br>It was his sister.  
>"Hi," he said. He was a bit nervous...she didn't usually talk to him unless she had to.<br>"You hungry?" she asked. She was holding out a Twinkie. He loved Twinkies.  
>"Um..." he said, trying to decide whether it was a trick or not.<br>"It's yours, if you want it," she said.  
>His nose twitched. When the smell of it entered his nose, his stomach growled loudly. He unconsciously covered it with one hand.<br>"Okay," he said, and he slowly reached out his hand.  
>"Psyche!" she said, unwrapping it and eating it herself. "You're a sucker, Oggie. That must be the millionth time you've fallen for that one!"<br>His brother appeared out of nowhere and knocked him over. He fell to his knees with a heavy thud, pain shooting up his wrists.  
>"Oh, didn't see you there, Oggie," said his brother. His sister snorted. "That's hard to believe, Manic," she said.<br>Manic laughed. "You're right, Sonia. I did do it on purpose. But maybe he wouldn't have fallen if he wasn't carrying so much extra weight around." He looked over at the boy on the ground. "Hey, Sonia, didja trick him again?"  
>"Yep," said Sonia. "How many times is that now?"<br>"No idea," said Manic. "It's not like I follow you guys around."  
>"You think I follow him around?" asked Sonia. "Please. I have better things to do with my time."<br>With that the both of them walked off, leaving him there, like they always did. He got up slowly; his knees hurt now.  
>His stomach growled again. He made a face. He decided to eat his lunch and hope he wasn't too hungry later. He took out his sandwich and ate it quickly. Sometimes people knocked his lunch out of his hand and then he didn't get to eat at all. He did not enjoy it. It was just something he had to do. Every time he walked by someone they looked away from him as if he didn't exist. He was used to it by now, but it didn't really get any easier to take.<br>He sat down at his desk and put his head in his arms. He had a headache all of a sudden.  
>"Ogilvie!"<br>His head jerked up. He looked around in a panic. "Huh?" he said.  
>"This is not kindergarten, young man!" said his teacher. "You don't get naptime anymore!"<br>"S-sorry," said Ogilvie. "I-I didn't m-mean to-"  
>"I don't care," said the teacher. "You can go to bed when you go home. If I'm in the room teaching, you should be paying attention!"<br>"Sorry," he mumbled again. Even though she had told him to, he wasn't really paying attention. The pain in his head had gotten worse, and now his stomach hurt too. It was turning somersaults and he felt very sick, all weak and shivery. Waves of hot and cold were going up and down his body.  
>"Well?"<br>"Huh?" said Ogilvie.  
>"So you're already not paying attention."<br>"No, I-"  
>She grabbed his hair and threw him on the ground. His head hit one of the desks and a rush of dizziness washed over him. He swallowed hard, trying to contain his nausea.<br>"Get up."  
>He couldn't. His legs wouldn't listen, and besides if he moved his head it was going to explode. He knew that no one would really care, but he kind of wanted to stay alive still.<br>The person sitting in the desk behind him kicked him in the head, he supposed they didn't like his head there, and before he knew it he was throwing up. It felt like he was getting rid of everything he had ever eaten in his life. When it was over he couldn't breathe. His ears were ringing from the pain in his head and his eyes were closed so when someone grabbed his arm the shock was so intense that he yelled in panic.  
>"It's your sister," said the teacher. "She's going to get you out of my classroom. For now, at least," she added rather grumpily.<br>He wasn't sure if he'd rather go home with his sister or stay there on the floor, but she was hauling him up now and he decided that it would probably be better to walk rather than to have her drag him.  
>He wasn't paying attention to where they were going. After a while he felt an arm around his shoulders and he zoned in.<br>"Huh?"  
>"You say that a lot?" asked Sonia.<br>"You're helping me?"  
>"Keep it on the down low," she said.<br>When they got home she was going to take him to his room when he said, "Wait...Sonia, wait a sec, please!"  
>"Why?" asked Sonia.<br>"I need to brush my teeth," he said. He always brushed his teeth when he got home.  
>"Okay," said Sonia.<br>He brushed them carefully without looking in the mirror, leaning on the sink heavily, and then Sonia took him to his room and tucked him in. She went and got a chair and sat on it.  
>"What are you doing?" Ogilvie asked.<br>"I'm going to sit with you," said Sonia, but she didn't say it as if he were stupid like she usually did when he asked her a question.  
>"Why?"<br>"'cause you're not feeling well," she answered.  
>Well, Ogilvie thought, that was kind of strange, but it was nice of her, and at this point he took what he could get from his brother and sister.<br>There was a silence. He hated silence, and he hated just doing nothing. This usually got him into trouble, but it was one of the things that he couldn't help doing, like chewing on his pencil when he had to do math. And he didn't just chew on the pencil, he practically ate it.  
>"Why are you mean to me?" he asked shyly, a bit nervous about asking.<br>She was quiet.  
>"I don't know," she said.<br>"Do you like me?"  
>"...I don't know," she said again.<br>"Why not?"  
>"I don't know," she repeated.<br>"Would Manic know?"  
>"Manic doesn't know anything," she said disdainfully.<br>"He said he knows everything," said Ogilvie in surprise.  
>She rolled her eyes. "Well, since you're sick, I'll tellya a secret: he doesn't."<br>"Oh," said Ogilvie, stunned at this revelation. "Thanks for telling me."  
>She shrugged. "Everyone knows it but you anyway."<br>He thought he was going to yawn but burped by mistake instead. He made a face; it tasted sour.  
>"Careful," said Sonia. "I'm not about to clean up your puke, you know."<br>He would have laughed had he been able to pay more attention. But he was really tired all of a sudden, and before he knew it his eyes were closing themselves and the world faded away.

For the first time in years, Sonia looked at her brother. Not just moved her eyes on him, but really looked at him.  
>For the first time she doubted her actions. She wasn't sure when her feelings toward him had changed, and she wasn't sure why, but she dimly remembered Ogilvie laughing and smiling all the time, when he was younger. She had the strange feeling she had once shown him off to all her friends, telling them that he was the cutest baby in the world. One thing she remembered for sure was her and him and Manic all sleeping in the same bed together, and feeling his little warm body in her arms as he lay there with his mouth a little bit open. She had had to be careful; if she let go of him he would wiggle himself onto the floor.<br>She put a hand on his head. It was pretty warm. She decided to leave him some Tylenol and hope he knew what to do with it.  
>She sat there and stroked his head absently for a while. When she heard the front door slam she got up quickly and took the chair back to her room, and traded it for some Tylenol.<br>Then she closed the door and went out to meet Manic like she had never been in there.  
>:iconiammemyself: <p>


	3. Chapter 3

The Fox

Ogilvie woke up the next morning, his head still pounding viciously. He looked over and saw the Tylenol. Sonia must have left it for him! Wow, she really was being nice!  
>He took them dry and got up after a few more minutes. They made him feel a lot better.<br>He went downstairs and discovered that his parents were already gone. That made him feel better as well. He wouldn't have to face them until later. He was sure they'd have a lot to say about what had happened.  
>He was, of course, hungry again so he took a deep breath and went to the kitchen. He knew Manic and Sonia would be in there, and they would tease him mercilessly.<br>As soon as he walked in Manic started to laugh. He laughed so hard milk came out of his nose. Ogilvie tried very hard to ignore his brother and poured himself some cereal. He didn't dare walk by Manic with it; Manic would trip him. He just ate it standing at the counter. He ate it quickly, as usual, and left the house just as quickly. He didn't want to have to deal with Manic and Sonia, and he really didn't want to go to school yet.  
>He walked for a long time, as usual not paying attention to what he was doing. He walked into a flagpole and fell down. He stood up, looked around, and then sat down with his back to the pole. He when all of a sudden he looked up to see a brown fox watching him. The fox had two tails, which was kind of strange, and eyes were different colours. One was blue, the other gold. Ogilvie spent a few minutes plucking dandelions and turning his fingers yellow when for some reason he looked up.<br>The fox was coming towards him.  
>Ogilvie started to panic. The fox was scary looking, like he had just been through hell or something. His eyes were...different. They looked at Ogilvie like they could see all the things he was hiding inside him, all the little secret shames he had put away so no one could see.<br>The fox sat down next to him.  
>"Hey there," he said.<br>"H-hello," said Ogilvie.  
>"You don't need to be scared," said the fox. "I'm not going to hurt you."<br>He had a nice voice, and despite himself Ogilvie found himself relaxing. He instinctively trusted strangers, which was not really a good thing.  
>"What're you doing out here all by yourself?" asked the fox.<br>"I-I'm hiding," said Ogilvie, hating the stutter in his voice. He knew it made him sound stupid. This fox didn't know he was stupid. The stutter was giving it away.  
>"Hiding?" said the fox.<br>"Ye-yes," said Ogilvie. "What're you d-doing?"  
>"I'm taking a break," said the fox. "I'm a soldier in an army and they finally decided I could go visit my wife." He smiled. "Trouble is, they don't have very good English and they dropped me off in the Green Hill Zone instead of the Emerald Hill Zone. It all sounds the same to them."<br>"I didn't know there was an Emerald Hill Zone," said Ogilvie.  
>"Oh yes," said the fox. "There are all sorts of different zones, not just this one. I come from up north, though."<br>Because it was bugging him, Ogilvie asked, "Why have you got two tails?"  
>"Hm?" said the fox.<br>"You're a fox, right? Why've you got two tails and not one?"  
>"Oh, " said the fox. "That would be because I'm not a fox."<br>"Of course you are," said Ogilvie, annoyed. "You look like one."  
>"Sometimes things aren't what they seem," said the fox. Ogilvie hated it when people talked like that. He never understood what they were saying.<br>"I don't know what you're saying," said Ogilvie angrily. He was getting really mad. He didn't really know why. Probably it was his headache's fault. It was building in his head, despite the Tylenol he had taken.  
>"It means," said the fox, "that I'm not a fox."<br>"Then what are you?" said Ogilvie.  
>"I'm a kitsune," said the fox.<br>"I don't know what that is!" said Ogilvie, frustrated.  
>"It's a kind of fox, I suppose, " said the fox. "I'm kind of like a...a ghost fox."<br>"You're not a ghost," said Ogilvie.  
>The fox sighed. "There's really no use in trying to explain it to you, is there?"<br>"No," said Ogilvie, suddenly sad. "I don't understand anything." He stared at the ground and tried not to cry.  
>"Hey, " said the fox, "are you hungry?"<br>Ogilvie hesitated.  
>"...yes," he said.<br>"All right then, " said the fox. "Let's go get something to eat then."  
>Ogilvie tried to be suspicious, but he was having trouble doing it. For some reason he really trusted this fox, or ghost, or not-fox, or whatever he was supposed to be.<br>The fox walked into a place at random, not seeming to really care where he was going, and squinted at the menu board. "Why are you squinting like that?"  
>The fox looked at Ogilvie. "You ask a lot of questions," said the fox amusedly.<br>"Well, how else am I gonna find out?"  
>The fox laughed. "That's a good point," he said. "I'm squinting because I don't read English very well."<br>"Neither do I!" said Ogilvie, glad to have finally found someone older than he was that couldn't read.  
>"I don't speak it very well sometimes either," continued the fox, "because it's hard to find other kitsune who'll talk back in English."<br>"Oh," said Ogilvie, going back to feeling stupid. Of course the fox didn't know English. He had already said he was from up north. Ogilvie knew that all sorts of strange creatures lived up north, and none of them knew anything about the world below them.  
>"Don't feel bad," said the fox, "the time will come when you can do something so well, no one will care that you can't read."<br>"I can read," said Ogilvie stubbornly.  
>"Really," said the fox.<br>"...a little, " admitted Ogilvie.  
>"You shall improve," said the fox, going back to his squinting. In the end he just ordered two burgers and fries. He got Ogilvie an apple juice as well.<br>"Oh, I'm sorry," said the fox as they sat down. "I suppose I should have asked you if you liked apple juice."  
>"I like everything," said Ogilvie, who had never had apple juice in his life.<br>The fox smiled. "That's a good thing," he said. "You'll never be disappointed."  
>"I'm always disappointed," said Ogilvie.<br>"Hm," said the fox. Ogilvie waited for him to say more, but he didn't.  
>Ogilvie ate his sandwich and fries quickly, as usual, and when he looked up he saw the fox staring at him.<br>"Um..." said Ogilvie.  
>"Are you still hungry?" asked the fox.<br>Ogilvie looked down.  
>"Here," said the fox. "You can have mine, I don't mind."<br>"Well, " said Ogilvie, "I really shouldn't..."  
>"It's okay," said the fox. "Go ahead."<br>Ogilvie did so, not looking at the fox. He was scared that something bad was going to happen now. As much as he unwillingly trusted this fox, people usually didn't give you things they got for themselves without wanting something else in return.  
>"Come on," said the fox, "you can bring that."<br>Ogilvie took his juice and they left the restaurant.  
>"I'm sorry, " said Ogilvie, "I shouldn't have eaten that."<br>"Whyever not?" asked the fox in surprise.  
>"'Cause...'cause I...," said Ogilvie, hating himself for not being able to say it.<br>"What?" said the fox, stopping and turning to look at him. Ogilvie walked over to a bench and sat down, putting his head in his hands.  
>"...I'm fat," he said, trying not to cry.<br>"What?" said the fox.  
>"I...I don't want to say it again," said Ogilvie.<br>"I don't want you to repeat it," said the fox. "I was saying it in surprise."  
>"Oh," said Ogilvie, who had trouble understanding words with double meanings.<br>"Why did you say that?" asked the fox.  
>"Why did I say Oh?" asked Ogilvie.<br>"No...why did you say you were fat?" asked the fox.  
>"'Cause I am," said Ogilvie ashamedly.<br>"You are?" said the fox?  
>"Y-yes."<br>"Who told you that?"  
>"...everyone," said Ogilvie.<br>"Well, you're not," said the fox. "Someone is playing a trick on you."  
>"Really?" said Ogilvie, lifting his head. The fox sat down beside him and looked into Ogilvie's eyes.<br>"You are not fat," he said, and Ogilvie started to cry. "I'm not?" he said.  
>"You haven't looked in a mirror lately, have you," said the fox.<br>"No," said Ogilvie. "Why would I do that?"  
>"So you don't know what you look like?" asked the fox.<br>"No, I guess not," said Ogilvie.  
>"The reason I asked you to lunch in the first place," said the fox, turning around to face the street, "is because you look like you're starving to death."<br>Ogilvie was too shocked to say anything.  
>"You go on home," said the fox. "But before you go, I'm going to give you some advice. It's up to you whether or not you follow it. All I ask is that you listen for a few minutes."<br>Ogilvie rubbed his eyes with his fists and concentrated on listening.  
>"There are a lot of people in the world who will tell you what to do. Some people you can't help but listen to. People like your teachers, authority figures, employers, and to some extent your parents, I suppose. Now, when you're young, you have no choice but to listen. As you get older, you'll find you have more and more people you'll have to listen to. But there is an aspect of listening that you don't have to apply.<br>"You don't have to believe what is being said.  
>"People lie.<br>"They will tell you things that aren't true. I could tell that you trusted me as soon as I offered you a little kindness. You are not only starved physically, but emotionally as well. I can see that you are a lonely little boy who feels lost in the big wide world by himself. In the future, you may not want to wear your heart on your sleeve like you are now. But that's a matter for another time.  
>"Little boy, no matter what someone tells you, you don't have to believe it. Until this moment, you didn't even know what you looked like. You don't know yourself. You are unhappy, are you not?"<br>Ogilvie nodded. "You won't be happy until you know who you are. You have to take a good look at yourself - and I don't just mean your physical self- and tell yourself who you want to be. Don't let other people tell you who you are.  
>"It doesn't matter what happens. Just don't stop fighting. Find the voice inside you. It will tell you what to do."<br>The fox stood up.  
>"What does it sound like?" asked Ogilvie.<br>"I can't tell you that," said the fox.  
>"Why not?" asked Ogilvie.<br>"The same reason you can't tell me what my inner voice sounds like," said the fox. "Only you can hear it."  
>He looked at Ogilvie and smiled.<br>"It was a good question, though."  
>"Really?"<br>"Yes," said the fox. "Now go home, and do something that you want to do. And don't let anyone stand in your way."  
>"Yes sir!" said Ogilvie, happier than he'd been in a long time. "Wait- should I listen to you?"<br>"Sorry," said the fox, laughing, "but you need to start thinking for yourself. Too many people are thinking for you at the moment."  
>"'kay," said Ogilvie. "Y'know what? I think I will."<br>"Good luck," said the fox. He started to leave when Ogilvie suddenly cried out, "Wait!"  
>"What is it?" asked the fox, turning around again.<br>"Why did you help me?"  
>The fox was silent for a long moment. Ogilvie tried to stay still. It was hard, but he tried. His leg was bouncing anxiously and he couldn't stop it.<br>Finally, the fox said, "Do you remember why I'm here?"  
>"Yes," said Ogilvie. "You're on leave from the army. The people who dropped you off have bad English so they left you in the Green Hill Zone instead of the Emerald Hill Zone. You're going to visit your wife."<br>"That's exactly right," said the fox in surprise. "You must have a very good memory."  
>"I do!" said Ogilvie, realizing it. "It must be from the inability to read," mumbled the fox to himself.<br>"But what does that have to do with your being nice to me?" asked Ogilvie.  
>"There's someone else I'm going to see," said the fox. "Someone I've never seen before."<br>"Who?" asked Ogilvie.  
>"My son," said the fox. "He's a little baby, just born a few days ago."<br>"Cool," said Ogilvie. Ogilvie liked babies. No matter how...unsmart...he was, there was always something he could teach a baby. "Can I see him?"  
>"I can't take you with me, so you can't. But maybe you'll see him one day."<br>"But he won't be a baby anymore."  
>"Probably not."<br>The fox walked off. Ogilvie cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, "Thank you!"  
>The fox waved at him and vanished.<br>Ogilvie walked home. It took him a while, but he remembered exactly where to go. He always did.  
>As soon as he got home he went into the bathroom and locked the door. Hopefully no one would come home and bother him.<br>He took a deep breath and looked into the mirror.  
>There was a scared little hedgehog looking back at him.<br>"That's not me," he whispered. But the hedgehog's lips moved to, and when he jumped in surprise, so did the hedgehog.  
>The fox had been right. He wasn't fat at all. The longer he looked at himself, the more he started to wonder what else was lies. He remembered what the fox had said:<br>"Now go home, and do something that you want to do. And don't let anyone stand in your way."  
>What do I want to do, Ogilvie wondered.<br>Then he knew.  
>He opened the door and brushed by his brother (by accident, but that wouldn't matter to Manic). He went downstairs, opened the front door, and jumped off the front porch. As soon as his feet touched the ground he started running.<br>:iconiammemyself: 


	4. Chapter 4

The Father

Ogilvie doubted he would be able to live up to what the fox had seemed to think he could do. He couldn't stop believing what people told him. He actually believed it when they told him he was fat, and he had to look in the mirror for a few minutes before he could believe that he wasn't. It was hard. He didn't know how to find himself, but he knew that if he didn't, he would be lost forever.  
>He went home after school, kind of depressed because he had almost failed his test again. Well, how was he supposed to read what he was supposed to do if the letters jumped all over like that? He didn't understand why everyone else could read those things, but he couldn't. Maybe he was just really dumb or something.<br>He went into his room and laid on his bed. He wanted to go to sleep, and when he woke up everything would be fine. Someone would help him. Someone would figure out what he was supposed to do, then tell him. Right?  
>He did fall asleep, but when he woke up nothing had changed. He was still tired though. He made a face and sat up. His arm was wet. He'd been crying in his sleep again.<br>He went into the bathroom and washed his face hard. If it was wet he could pretend it was from the washing, not from crying. Someone knocked on the door.  
>"Uh-huh?" said Ogilvie, quickly turning away.<br>"Can I come in?"  
>It was his dad.<br>"Yeah," said Ogilvie, nervous. His heart started to skip. His father almost never said anything to him.  
>"I heard you barely squeaked by on your test again," said his father.<br>"Um, yeah," whispered Ogilvie. "Th-that's right."  
>"Hm, " said his father. Ogilvie just stared at his feet.<br>All of a sudden his father was on top of him, doing things that Ogilvie knew were wrong but were beyond his power to stop. He screamed, crying and begging for someone to help him, but of course no one came. No one gave a damn about him. It went on forever, and he tried to put himself out of his head like he did sometimes when someone was beating him up or yelling at him for being dumb, but he kept coming back to himself and feeling the horribleness of it all. After a long, long time he finally, finally went numb and didn't feel anything at all. "C'mon," his father whispered in his ear. "C'mon, Ogilvie. I like it better when you cry."  
>But Ogilvie didn't.<br>After a while his father left. Ogilvie was left lying on the floor, feeling horribly numb and empty inside. He knew his father had taken something from him, but he didn't know what it was. He just knew that it was gone, and he would never, ever get it back. He got up and looked at himself in the mirror. He didn't recognize the person looking back at him, that wasn't him, was it? That person was dead, an empty shell. There was nothing behind that hedgehog's eyes. He had had everything taken away.  
>All of a sudden there was a terrible pain inside of him. It wasn't a physical pain; it was much worse than that. It grew and grew and grew, an unbearable pressure that was destroying him from the inside out. He started to scream and cry and he hit the mirror, trying to make the reality go away. It broke and his hands began to bleed, but he didn't care. He destroyed everything he could reach as he tried to make the pain go away, maybe if he took it out on something it would go away. But it didn't, it got worse and worse until he was running, he didn't know where he was going but he had to get away from it, but it was finding him and he didn't know where to hide from it. He stopped all of a sudden. He did know where to hide from it.<br>No longer caring about anything, Ogilvie smashed his hand through the nearest window and broke off a jagged chunk of glass. Hardly able to see through his tears, he slashed both of his wrists, hard.  
>Then his eyes widened in shock as his vision started to blur and turn red, and he realized what he'd done.<br>Ogilvie collapsed, blood pouring systematically out of his wrists as well as the many cuts he had received in his rage. His vision blurred to black and everything went away. 


	5. Chapter 5

The Kitsune

He was wet.  
>He opened his eyes.<br>He was lying in the middle of the street with a piece of broken glass in his left hand. He wondered if he should switch it to his right hand before anyone noticed, then figured that it was probably too late, they probably already knew he wasn't right handed.  
>Why did his arms hurt so much?<br>He sat up. He was hit with an intense wave of dizziness, but he forced himself to lean against a tree and then he rubbed his eyes, hard, with one hand.  
>When he opened them again he saw all of the people. None of them saw him.<br>He stared.  
>No one looked at him.<br>His eyes dropped as he looked at himself. He was drenched in sticky, dark red blood. He was caked in it. And nobody cared.  
>A pounding noise started in the back of his head and slowly grew in intensity. No one cared. Not even one person. He might not be the best person in the world, but didn't even he deserve better than this? Couldn't just one person have stopped? Just one? Just to say, "Hey, you all right?"<br>The fox was right, Ogilvie realized. The only person you could believe was yourself. If they didn't give a damn about you, then you shouldn't care what they wanted you to be.  
>He got up.<br>He was still extremely dizzy, and incredibly he was still bleeding. He must have been bleeding for hours. He forced himself to walk. He walked for a long time. A long, long time. He spent this time thinking hard about himself and who he was. He decided he wasn't going to take anything from anyone anymore. He was done listening to what other people had to say. They were going to listen to him or they were going down. He wasn't going to deal with their crap anymore. He was going to be his own person now, and there was no one who could stand in his way.  
>After a while he was standing in the middle of a forest. He wasn't quite sure how he had gotten there, or where he was going, but he knew that he had to sit down before he fell down. He sat down against a tree and closed his eyes.<br>"Hey there!"  
>He sat up straight. He looked around.<br>There was no one there.  
>He supposed he had been imagining things and sat back.<br>"Hey, mister, you okay?"  
>Ogilvie jumped. He looked around again and for some reason looked up.<br>There was a little orange fox sitting in the tree.  
>"What're you doing?" he asked.<br>"Sittin'," said the fox. "Wha'd ya do to yourself? Didja get in an accident?"  
>"An accident?" said Ogilvie, whose dizziness was making it hard to think.<br>"Yeah, like a car accident! Hey, have ya ever seen a car? 'Cause I haven't, and I wanna, and if you have one I'd like to see it, please."  
>"I don't have a car," said Ogilvie. "I didn't get in a car accident."<br>"What happened?"  
>"I..." said Ogilvie, not really wanting to say, because then he'd have to admit it to himself.<br>"Here, I'll come down so ya won't hafta yell," said the fox, and he jumped out of the tree to land in front of Ogilvie. He was so tiny that Ogilvie wondered why he wasn't still in his mother's arms, wanting her comfort.  
>"How old're you?" he asked the fox.<br>"I'm two," said the fox, holding up two fingers. He looked at them. "Or is that three?"  
>"No," said Ogilvie, "that's two."<br>"Oh, good," said the fox. "My English is not so good sometimes, but I find that reading the dictionary really helps a lot. I learned a lot of words from there. It's a BIG dictionary. It's bigger than me!"  
>"Imagine that," Ogilvie muttered. He had a headache and wasn't feeling too friendly, although he was actually delighted that someone was talking to him in such a nice manner.<br>"Lots of things are bigger than me," the fox continued. "Not a lot of things are small like me either."  
>"Wow," said Ogilvie. "Isn't that somethin'."<br>"No," said the fox. "But maiyo thinks I'm cute, so that's good enough for me!"  
>"Who's mayo?" asked Ogilvie.<br>"Not mayo, maiyo!" said the fox. "She's my mommy. It's kind of how you say mommy in kitsune."  
>"You're a kitsune?"<br>"Yep! Din'tcha see my two tails? Everyone else does. And then they kind of walk in a direction that's away from me."  
>All of a sudden the little fox sat down and started to cry.<br>"Whoa," said Ogilvie. "What are you doing?"  
>"I hate them!" cried the fox. "I hate my tails! I wish I only had one!"<br>"Aren't kitsune supposed to have more than one tail?"  
>"Not me," sobbed the fox, "I'm only two! You're not supposed to have two tails until you're a hundred! I'm not a hundred! I'm two!"<br>"What's your name?" asked Ogilvie.  
>"Miles," said the fox.<br>"My name's Ogilvie," said Ogilvie. He was trying to get the kid to stop crying.  
>Miles looked up.<br>"Huh?" he said.  
>"My name's Ogilvie," Ogilvie repeated.<br>"That is the worst name I've ever heard," said Miles. "I hate your name, Ogilvie. Although it must be interesting to spell," he mused. He started to write on the ground with a stick. He had mostly stopped crying, but he sniffed every once in a while.  
>Ogilvie was angry. Who was this kid, to think that he could just go around insulting other people's names?<br>"Hey, what's your name again?" asked Ogilvie.  
>"Miles," said Miles. "Miles Prower."<br>"Miles per hour? What kind of a name is that?" asked Ogilvie. "How can you insult my name when you're named after a speed limit?"  
>"A-a what?" asked Miles.<br>"Y'know...how fast you're allowed to go."  
>"N-no..." said Miles. he was starting to cry again.<br>Ogilvie hadn't meant to do that.  
>"Hey, don't cry," he said. "I guess Miles per hour means something else in kitsune."<br>"B-but my name is stupid! No wonder everyone laughs at me when I tell them it!"  
>"Well, I guess we both have stupid names then," said Ogilvie. "Hey, I've got an idea!"<br>"What is it?" sniffled Miles.  
>"We could give each other a new name. Like a nickname," said Ogilvie.<br>Miles brightened up instantly.  
>"Yeah! That would be so cool!" he said. "Let's do that! You go first."<br>Ogilvie smiled. "Well, there's only one thing I can call you, kiddo," he said.  
>"What's that?" asked Miles.<br>"Tails," said Ogilvie.  
>"W-why would you wanna call attention to them?" asked Miles, pulling them around into his lap. "They're horrible."<br>"'cause no matter how much you hate them, they're yours," said Ogilvie. "You gotta like yourself. If you don't like yourself, who will?"  
>"That's good advice, Ogilvie," said Miles. "I'll try an remember that."<br>"I will too, Tails," said Ogilvie.  
>"kaykay, " said Tails. "Now it's your turn...hm..."<br>Ogilvie waited patiently. This kid read the dictionary, he must have all sorts of interesting names in his little head.  
>"I know I know!" said Tails. "What's all of your name?"<br>"You mean my full name?"  
>"Uh-huh," said Tails, jumping up and down.<br>"Ogilvie Maurice Hedgehog," said Ogilvie.  
>"Yuck!" said Tails. "My name's lots better, I promise!"<br>"What is it?" asked Ogilvie.  
>"Your new name is," said Tails, twirling around and around in a circle, his tails swirling around him, "a very good name. I think you'll like it. It's cool, I think, like you."<br>Ogilvie would have been happy with just that. No one had ever called him cool before.  
>"What is it?" said Ogilvie, feeling a thrill he'd never felt before.<br>"I picked it 'cause I saw you runnin' so fast," said Tails.  
>"But what is it?" asked Ogilvie. He wanted to know so much he could taste it. This was going to be the start of a whole new life. He would erase Ogilvie, make it so that he didn't exist. He would become this new person and be the cool guy that Tails thought he was.<br>Tails smiled and said, "Your name is Sonic.  
>"Sonic the Hedgehog." <p>


End file.
